


pincushion

by ghosty



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosty/pseuds/ghosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanity's pair of finest and strongest soldiers have a problem: there is something powerful in his words, and something unspeakable in the swing of her hips.</p><p>Goddamnit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. étreinte

**Author's Note:**

> there's actually a really hilarious story as to how i started shipping this. i adore mikasa as a character and i was watching whatever episode, idk levi was in it, and i was thinking about how i can't really ship mikasa and eren, and then suddenly i had a jimmy neutron brain blast, my eyes went really wide and my mouth opened very slowly and i saw an entire timeline of levi/mikasa relationship flash before my eyes and i turned to my friend and was like "OH MY GOD I SHIP LEVI AND MIKASA??????"
> 
> then i read fanfiction for three days and here we are now :'| some of these will be related to one another, but mostly these are exercises and based off of certain fanart. also, just assume that their ages are more sane than canon (lol). i am so super embarrassed. enjoy! 
> 
> (much thanks to everyone in the wonderful rivamika tag on tumblr, and all the fanficcers and fanartists for being so inspirational!!!)
> 
> p.s. [here is an fst](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/nails-for-breakfast) 4 your listening pleasure

"Do you mind?"

"Mind what, Ackerman?"

They were alone, first and foremost. The captain’s chambers were an empty echo of space and fine furniture with all the good soldiers off patrolling, or asleep in their own beds. It was not unusual for Mikasa to be here anymore, nor was it unusual for her gaze to remain ever bitter, steely, and guarded. He had been demanding her presence in his quarters for enough time, after all.

Still, though, how he did wish she would relax. Her tenseness always tempted to give him a migraine.

"I… I…"

"Spit it out."

Strangely, Mikasa was looking at the floor with her shoulders tight, and it seemed to take silent effort on her part to return her gaze to his. He felt the look of surprise on his face as he saw for one of the first times, something that looked suspiciously like... vulnerability.

"I would like to be held." The words came out quietly and quickly, but with a control she was always capable of keeping in her voice. He wasn't sure he had just heard her correctly. She added, explaining, “I am tired." And with that, god, she looked it -- the candlelight was pitiful, but after she said it, he saw fatigue in all of her stance.

For a few seconds, the captain forgot to reply, for he was simply too engrossed in staring at his underling and absorbing what he just heard and seen. And then, slowly, as he saw her gaze slide back downward and her jaw set in defiance and redness fill her cheeks, he felt his eyes narrow and turn wry and his lips curl upwards into a smirk.

Ah, how he simply could not resist toying with little miss red scarf…

"What was that, Ackerman? I’m not quite sure I heard you correctly. You’ll have to speak up, you see, it’s late and I am terribly exhausted."

Her fists visibly clenched, and for a moment, he regretted his words, worried that his taunt would drive her into withdrawing her statement and preventing him from such a rare pleasure. But Mikasa’s head snapped up, her expression burning and renewed, and Levi knew not to doubt her ever again.

"I said, _sir_ ," she stressed the last word. “I would like to be held, for I am extremely tired."

They stood there, having the staring contest of the century, until Levi walked to her, hands folded behind his back. He leaned in, right past her face, and spoke quietly next to her ear so she shivered, “Request accepted… _Mikasa_."

As his arms wrapped around his prize, bringing her in close, caging her to him, he felt the heat from her cheeks straight through his cotton shirt.

Mikasa melted into his arms, and he easily took her weight. She was too tongue-tied for words, too embarrassed to say anything more. He supposed he should take the opportunity.

"Good girl," he mumbled, half-smiling into her hair where she could not see. “Ask me for things more often."


	2. revanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on [this image](http://kanda3egle.tumblr.com/post/56352480013) ;)
> 
> fst [here](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/nails-for-breakfast)!

Every pair of eyes in the room was on them. 

Every person went still in their chairs, mid step, mid conversation, and turned their full attention to the dark-haired pair who stood at Corporal Levi’s table, where they stood wordlessly. They stared into each others’ eyes as black coffee _drip drip drip_ ped down Levi’s cravat and made a small puddle on the floor.

The guilty offender, Mikasa Ackerman, porcelain cup still in hand with warm dregs at the bottom, appeared completely calm, non-plussed… at first glance. In fact, to most people in the room, the two looked impressively apathetic to the horrific situation.

But they knew better. Coffee making Mikasa’s fingers slippery and sticky, she couldn’t care less as she drank in the utter acerbity that hid under the surface of her corporal’s expression. His gaze grew darker and hardened, and the air around him grew thick and cold.

Meanwhile, Levi read every microexpression of disdain and mirth and accomplishment and satisfaction that glittered through the storm-coloured eyes of Ackerman. The deep brown of the coffee stained his clothes further and further, and it took every ounce of his control not to reach out and snap her enticing neck. To grab her hair and teach her a long, painful lesson. To see the look in her eyes as he stuffed his cravat in her mouth and berated her and spit on her in front of every single person in his unit, until she _begged_ for his mercy—

"My apologies, Corporal. I didn’t see you there." She looked so damn pleased with herself that fury boiled up in his gut and he had to close his eyes before he spoke.

The room remained still, everyone anticipating what beating would come down on the cadet. Instead…

"What are all of you fuckheads looking at? If you have so much free time, I assure you of a long list of chores and paperwork I am eager to pass off to more suitable candidates…"

The venom in Levi’s voice was fast acting, and like magic, the population of the dining room returned to loud conversation and breakfast. All except for Mikasa.

His head turned back to her slowly, and he was pleased to see a fraction of apprehension in her now.

"Ackerman," he began quietly, letting all the fine hairs on her skin stand up and her blood run colder. Never removing his glare from her, he ripped off his once-white cravat, and shoved it into her hands. “Get on your knees and clean up your mess. It is a very convenient mistake that you made, as I have needed someone to save me the time of making my own coffee for me, and I believe you are perfectly suited for the job. You will be doing so, every morning, from now on. And I think you’ll do nothing but clean this floor spotless and wash my ruined clothes until I deem them acceptable today. Are we clear?"

Mikasa’s gaze was dull and reproachful, if you looked closely enough. But she simply bowed, and said, “Yes, Corporal."

And Corporal Levi spent much of his day enjoying the image of Mikasa Ackerman kneeling on his floor.


	3. rouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slight continuation of the previous chapter :O) in which our corporal has strong feelings about a certain scarf...
> 
> fst [here](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/nails-for-breakfast)!

"Is there something you wanted to discuss, Corporal?"

It was taking everything in her not to laugh. Everything. Corporal Levi was several inches beneath her, and even with his hand plastered to the wall beside her, trapping her effectively, there was something stupidly hilarious about her Corporal’s shortness. Endearing, even.

…If it weren’t for the fact that she detested him and wanted to exact revenge for what he did to Eren.

"I believe I asked you to scrub the dining hall floors."

What? She already had, and she had made sure she’d done it well for his back-breaking standards. Was he really going to be that persnickety today?

Surprisingly, Levi fell quiet afterwards. It had taken her a moment to notice in her newfound irritation, but when she did, she saw his attention seemed to lay fully on her… her… chest??? What? No, no, not her chest… her scarf. Confusion filled her, and she prompted, "…Anything else, sir?"

Levi remained silent a moment longer. Then, drawing away, he let a hand barely drift down the trail of her scarf — Eren’s precious, precious red scarf. Something in his eyes seemed distant.

"No, private. Nothing at all. You’re dismissed."

Mikasa remained in the corner longer than necessary, not sure at all why she felt so conflicted, or what the conflicting feelings even were.

She did not notice the newfound warmth in her cheeks.


	4. rouge, pt. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sequel to the last chapter, in which our corporal has been thinking about a certain red scarf...
> 
> fst [here](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/nails-for-breakfast)!

"Ackerman!"

"Yes, Corporal?"

"Come here."

Mikasa obeyed. That isn’t to say she did it gladly, because the first thing she noticed when he spoke was that his voice had dipped into his older drawl, his accent from his previous village and life, and that only happened when he was upset with _very_ good reason.

"Have you cleaned the dining hall floors yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"To perfection?"

"I believe so, sir."

"We’ll see about that."

Tch.

"Anything else, sir?"

Mikasa’s previous softness for her Corporal’s height was fading quickly to impatience. There was a real chance that the Corporal would not approve of her cleaning and demand more, and truthfully her hands were still pruned and stinging from the exposure to so many abrasive liquid chemicals.

He seemed like he was about to dismiss her, but something lit up in his eyes; Mikasa felt an instant concern.

"Yes," Levi replied slowly, thoughtfully. “Yes. About your scarf."

Mikasa thought to run, as the look in his eyes was foxlike and screamed of danger, and it was always a bad sign when he began to smile, but he was too quick. Her Corporal’s hand shot out like an arrow and grabbed her by the tail of her scarf, pulling it taut and yanking her far too close to his face. Suddenly, Mikasa felt the warmth of his breath, could see the intense detail of the grey freckles in his eyes, the crease of his cheeks where he faintly smirked. His volume dropped to a low hiss.

"An accessory like this would normally be in your way during battle. However, fortunately for you, I believe red suits you, Ackerman."

The words hung in the air, the proximity between the pair seemingly feeling or becoming smaller and smaller. The intensity of the Corporal's words were powerful, and Mikasa felt uncharacteristically flustered in the face of such intimidation -- it faintly crossed her mind that from this position, he could both break her neck or kiss her if he so chose, and Mikasa deftly began shifting into a more advantageous position... all whilst biting her lower lip softly. His gaze moved from her own to her mouth, and quickly back again.

"I've graciously decided to let you continue wearing it."

The look in Levi's eyes was indescribable, but dark. Dark, dark, alluringly dark. It seemed to be hard for him to say this. It was almost like he was compromising, though what for she did not know. Mikasa was not given much time to think about it, as he then released her and immediately strode out the door and away towards the dining hall.

Goddamnit.

Mikasa shut her eyes, and released a long, shuddering breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.


	5. choix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> has there been a scientific study on why people always get the best ideas in the shower yet? every good thing i've ever done comes from taking a shower. what the hell, man. what the hell.
> 
> anyway, i hope i'm starting to get the nuances of these two down! u/////u;
> 
> [an fst](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/nails-for-breakfast) for your listening pleasure!

It was very late, and Mikasa wasn't sure why she was awake.

The lights in the dining hall were low, most of the candles having burned out already. Every now and then, someone on patrol would wander past the large wooden doors, but Mikasa simply sat, swirling the dregs of her cold tea in her pale cup, thinking idly.

It wasn't a habit she liked. Thinking so tediously was a gamble if she didn't have something to focus on. She could spend an hour contemplating how to swing her legs underneath Corporal Levi's the next time they practised, and then the next minute, remember the sound of an ax breaking the flesh of a soft neck, blood splattering across wooden walls and floors and...

"Ackerman?"

Mikasa's head shot up, jolted that she hadn't heard someone come in. But boots tapped lightly across the floor, and none other than her corporal wandered to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her.

His shoulders tilted lower than usual, and his eyes seemed darker. He looked tired.

"Late night meeting, sir?" she asked politely, staring down into the dark pool of her tea. Little scraps of leaves still littered the bottom. It was easier to look at her drink than him; more often than not, lately, Levi had been pushing her and punishing her, making her run laps and train harder, and never letting up. Part of her deeply appreciated the training, for her goal was always to become stronger, stronger, but she felt like she would never quite reach him. He would always, always find a way to keep her down.

"As usual. Why aren't you in bed, Ackerman?"

"I just couldn't sleep tonight. Thought I'd have tea, and sit up."

"Training is still at seven, you know."

"I know."

And again, he would encroach on her personal space. He'd grab her shoulder and force her to the dirt, and he'd smirk at her and she'd feel a twist in her heart that she couldn't place. There would be a battle in her blood -- do I hate him? Do I respect him?

She didn't know. And in the end, it left her empty, grayer.

"Here."

Her corporal broke her musings by taking her cup from her hands, placing it on the saucer, and refilling it with the teapot. She was glad she had the sense to put a cosy on it. The liquid was still steamy, making the soothing sound as it poured, and Levi poured another cup for himself. He carefully placed her cup back in front of her.

Again, again, her heart felt too fast and tight, and she wanted to smile, but it was all just so alien to her she couldn't stand it. It was like wearing your favourite coat during summer.

"Thank you, sir," she managed to say anyway, quickly taking the cup into her hands and shutting her eyes as she took the first sip.

"You're welcome. You look more agreeable when you drink tea."

Mikasa nearly sputtered, but shot him a glare, and he only laughed lightly at her. When she'd drank her fill, she rested her elbows on the table, feeling warm and... different... and pinched her scarf, bringing it up to cover her nose and mouth. It had stopped smelling like Eren god knows how long ago, but the motion was still comforting.

"What are you thinking about?"

Mikasa kept her eyes closed, and her scarf up. "None of your business."

"I could make it my business, Ackerman. I could order you."

"Still wouldn't tell you, chibi."

"And what if I promised to break every single one of Jaeger's soft fingers until you spoke?"

Faster than Mikasa had ever moved, her eyes shot up, hard and cold and black as an abandoned winter's charcoal, and she stood tall and her fist clenched hard on the table, hair fluttering around her.

"Don't play games with me, Corporal," she growled.

Levi stood, rising to her challenge. His gaze reached lower than hers, but smoothly, he stepped back and onto his chair until he towered above her.

"Don't tempt me then, _brat_."

They stood there, gazes locked for some time, electricity brimming between and charging the air around them. Neither would back down. Mikasa, still scowling darkly, picked up her teacup and drank from it, and Levi snorted.

It wasn't until another patrolling soldier came by that the staring contest ended. At once, Mikasa planted herself back in her seat, staring off into the distance, precisely just as Levi hopped down and into his chair, sitting straight and drinking from his cup. Neither combatant wanted to be caught in such a ridiculous position without context.

Frankly though, it was amusing. Mikasa was torn between spite and mirth, and Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek not to smile.

When the guard finally passed, Mikasa sighed and leaned back in her seat, pulling her scarf back up, and Levi made a sound of displeasure.

"Jaeger gave you that scarf, yes?"

"I don't see why this is releva--"

"Hush, Ackerman. I'm not going to take it from you. The brat is important to you, that much is clearly evident."

"He's my adopted brother, of course he is."

Levi blinked. The information processed. He had had no idea, and suddenly, many things made so much more sense, and something like relief and hope spilled into his chest, and he looked away feeling slightly stupid, half-frowning.

"...I see." Was all he said.

And then he asked a question: "Ackerman... Say Jaeger and I were in a life or death situation. Who would you save?"

"Tch, I'd--"

"I want an honest answer. That's an order."

Mikasa went quite still in her chair. She kept her muzzle safe in the confines of the soft, red fabric, and her dark eyes stared thoughtfully into the grain of the table. Of course she was supposed to answer him, because he was her corporal, and everyone else's corporal, and he was responsible for an entire unit and incredibly valuable as a soldier. But Eren was also their only titan-human hybrid, and he was their key to changing the tides of the war. ...And he was her brother.

Levi was, somewhere deep in him, disappointed that Mikasa was not going to say his name. Either answer was correct, really, and he didn't expect her to care that much for him. He knew he'd been pushing her too roughly in his carelessness to get rid of his frustrations with the girl. It wasn't that he was... attracted... to her... There was just... something about teasing her, and watching her get pissed, and her still having to call him 'sir' and show deference at the end of the day...

"I would save both of you."

The room was very quiet, and she said the words softly, but clearly. She still did not look at him.

"Saying realistically you couldn't save both of us, obviously."

"I would save both of you."

Mikasa finally looked up at him, and her eyes were honest and Levi felt his mouth go a little dry at how the candlelight landed on her in that moment.

He didn't fight her. His expression softened.

"...Good answer."

Mikasa finished her tea after that, and so did he. They had remained in companionable silence, until Levi finally rose from his chair, and Mikasa attempted to until he stopped her and pulled out her chair for her.

"Thank you for your company, sir," she mumbled as she stood. Levi bravely ignored the urge to do something to her.

"Likewise. I'll see you in the morning."

"Of course."

"...Ackerman?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Come by my room the next time you can't sleep. I could tolerate your presence before bed."

"...Y-yes, sir."

Mikasa left first, walking briskly and nearly dropping her tea cup as she came back to put it down. He thought he saw her smile at him. He thought her cheeks looked redder.

Levi remained a few minutes longer, hunched over with his head plastered to the table and his eyes shut, trying to rid his mind of her image and reduce his heart rate.


	6. baiser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> important: [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVh_UylrZNg)
> 
> enjoy ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

Mikasa Ackerman was terrified, to say the least. Her day was somewhat ruined, or at least seriously displaced. Not that it had started out in such a way.

_Fucking Sasha..._

"So," the girl had said, big brown eyes and crumbs around her smile. "Haa.. haha... have you, kissed, yet?"

She felt her skin temperature go up about a thousand degrees, and she went stiff and looked down at her oatmeal ferociously.

"What's it to you?" she bit out in response, spooning some into her mouth. It was way too hot, and her eyes watered hard and she didn't blink. Sasha made a grotesque noise in response and Mikasa cursed all the gods as their behavior began attracting the attention of the others, who all started their "Huh?"s and "What's going on?"s. 

Mikasa very quickly excused herself, calmly swiping Sasha's bread off of her plate and walking away as she shrieked behind her.

\---

The question plagued her. Haunted her.

The answer was -- of course -- no.

A select number of people knew she and their corporal were in a... relationship... and they had sworn on pain of death not to get carried away with notifying the rest of the world, and making sure their privacy was respected. After all, if it got out among the ranks, there would be dissonance without question, and frankly, no one wanted to deal with it.

Mikasa felt fretful. She was distracted during training. She barely focused on chores, nearly running into people carrying full, soapy buckets, and absentmindedly staring off into walls and windows, trying not to think about Sasha's inquiry...

No, no she hadn't kissed him. Mikasa hadn't kissed anyone in her life. They'd been together, what, a few months, sort of? Where the tension between them was palpable and he complimented her more and more and found excuses to have his meals alone with her. And she would remain in locked positions during practice just a little too long, always focusing on the precise fall of his hair around his temples and the intensity of his stare and the path of the sweat that dripped down his sinewy neck, and she would spend her nights patrolling with him, always talking more openly than she could remember speaking with anyone... even... Eren, sometimes...

And, no, she hadn't kissed him. He'd kissed her head, and her hair, but their lips had never touched.

Mikasa could not explain her fear.

\---

"If you keep staring like that, you're going to burn a hole in the wall."

"Mm."

"Is there a reason for your petulance?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Stop acting like a child, or I'll be forced to treat you like one."

"I'm just tired."

A lie. Levi could smell it from a mile away. He shut his eyes, exasperated, and rubbed his forehead. Mikasa just distantly gazed at the wall, holding her now-cold teacup in her hands without a thought. So, he rose from his chair, and gently pried her from her own.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed. I don't know what's gotten into you, or why you've decided that I can't know about it, but you'd be stupid to think I'm not going to take care of you."

His words just made it so much worse. Mikasa clenched her teeth, rigidly upset with herself, her inadequacy, her troubling Levi, and decided she needed to work up the courage to say something during their walk before he left her at the door -- as he always did.

"I trust you," she managed to admit. "I just..." Her voice trailed, and she cursed herself.

Their steps were synchronized, and she could see the unreadable expression on Levi's face from the corner of her eye, becoming shadowed and illuminated as they passed every torch in the empty stone hall. The only sound was the echo of their boots on the floor, and it resonated down the corridor and back -- not enough to dull the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

"Don't worry about it," he said after a while. He seemed frustrated, but real.

Her brow furrowed with equal frustration.

"No! I want to tell you. I..." She was trying to keep her voice firm, but that slight edge was so evident to him, and one eyebrow perked up, curious as he tilted his head at her. She had to just say it. Just needed to get it out. What was she, man or mouse? This was nothing. It wasn't like... he would judge her for this, think her weaker, or...

"Sir, should we kiss?"

Levi's step faltered, but he kept walking, looking straight ahead. Mikasa carefully controlled her breathing.

"I'm not quite sure I understand."

Mikasa's mind swam with a hundred very violent and non-PG-13 words, and she folded her arms behind her back, fingers gripping her shirt at the elbow.

"We've... been together for quite some time, and I was... wondering... if we should have kissed by now."

If only she had seen the expression on his face. Ruffling Corporal Levi's feathers was an enormous task, and Mikasa Ackerman had succeeded.

They had made it to her room. Mikasa was now keyed up and positive she wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another hour.

They did not go inside, though. They remained outside her door, and Levi finally turned to her, looking into her eyes with a more gentle expression.

"Tell me, is there a set rule that decides when a couple is supposed to have fucked?"

Mikasa released a breath sharply, unwillingly, and her blush made her look elsewhere. His hand cupped her chin, redirected her attention to him.

"That was a question, girl."

Mikasa stammered, "N-no, sir. I just thought it was expected that we had kissed..."

Levi seemed to slowly understand her train of thought, and his gaze, even in the dim light, was turning to an irate smolder.

"No one decides when we do anything. No one decides when I kiss you, when I hold your hand, when I do anything to you. And likewise. Now, Mikasa..."

 _Mikasa_. A thrill ran down her spine, and it doubled when he reached out, grabbing her fingertips and curling her hand onto his. He took one step closer to her, leaving an insurmountably small space between them, and Mikasa felt her breath catch. He was so close. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind; how should she move her lips, how long should a kiss last, will it feel good, will he enjoy it, will she mess up? How much longer? The temperature seemed too hot, and her throat too tight, and yet, deep in the pit of her belly was a twisting sensation she couldn't quite place...

She couldn't take it anymore. He was closing the gap too quickly (one inch, two inches, three inches...) and Mikasa swallowed thickly and looked down, and then felt a searing kiss right across her knuckles.

She looked up. Levi's lips were chastely, sweetly pressed to her fingers, and he kissed further down where the back of her hand was. Then, her wrist. Everywhere his lips touched left a burning imprint. He turned her hand over, running a fingertip down her palm before he kissed that as well, looking up from under his lids and keeping cruelly electrifying eye contact with her.

It was over too fast, even though he took his time, and Mikasa was left trembling as if she'd run miles.

And then he did probably one of the more romantic gestures she would witness. Levi, without releasing her hand, brought it to his heart in a lightly clenched fist, and his other arm went behind his back. He stood straight, tall, unyielding, in his best salute, her hand in his, over his heart.

"There's no rush. Now stop worrying. Get some sleep."

And just like that, Levi was back to his tone of perfect authority, and let go of her hand, unable to resist smirking at the completely stunned expression on her face before he turned and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trollface.jpg


	7. neige

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo maybe i just thought levi and mikasa liking snow would be a really cute idea......

It's been such a long summer that the first day the skies grow grey, and the winds bring with them the promise of ice, Mikasa is momentarily confused. The year had been endless. So much time had been spent committing to the blistering heat and sunburn and dead grass, the endless gulping of water after training, the relief of pressing sweaty skin against the cold stone indoors, that Mikasa is dumbfounded as she looks out her window and sees swirls outside.

The door bursts open shortly afterwards -- she barely flinches, and her head turns to see Eren, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he blurts out, "Mikasa! Snow!"

She can't help but smile at his childlike enthusiasm. And well, she supposed she was a bit excited, too.

"Yes, I saw. I take it you're going out?"

"Everyone is! It's not like there was a lot to do today, so we're all going. I heard Connie say something about starting a large-scale snowball fight once we've got enough people. You have to come!"

"Of course. Who else will save you when the yetis come?"

"Ha! As if! It's been a year since my last snowball fight, and I bet my right arm I could even beat you now."

Mikasa perked a brow, smiling. "But doesn't your arm grow back?"

Eren paused before grimacing, and scuffing his boot against the floor. "Y-yeah... But nevermind! We're meeting in twenty minutes, so make sure you come!"

She doesn't have time to affirm. The door is already closing, and she hears him hurrying down the hall to the others' rooms, to gather more recruits.

Her hand stretches in front of her as she turns back to the window, lightly dragging her fingertips down the fogged glass, savouring the chill of the pane.

"I suppose I could use a break."

\---

She can't believe she's laughing, but she is.

Snow is being hurtled across the grounds, heaps of it, and it's freezing and sloshy and wet and in her boots, but Eren is talking about his brigade of champions and Armin keeps hiding behind her, and yeah, she did just land a direct hit right in Sasha's face, didn't she?

And then came Corporal Levi.

The entirety of the soldiers, mid-battle, froze once they realized their commander was sprinting across the white expanse, balling up something carefully in his gloved hands. She saw Levi glance from left to right before snapping, "Who told you to desist, brats?!", in which hoards of whiteness was pelted in his direction.

And maybe Eren's yells were a little more subdued now, but Mikasa continued to take out anyone and everyone who dared attack him, and thankfully, it made him more confident. 

"M-Mikasa! Look out!"

Armin's warning came too late, though, and Mikasa took a fat wad of snow all over the side of her face and ear, causing her to squeak with the sudden freezingness. But she recovered instantly, eyes scoping the trajectory route until she laid eyes on none other than Corporal Levi's smirking expression, patting a fresh new snowball in his hands.

Oh. Oh?

"Be careful, Mikasa...!"

She responded to Armin with a look of haughty confidence -- as if she would lose to their midget leader! -- and took off like a jackrabbit.

Scarf spurning behind her, Mikasa leaned low and scooped up hard ice quickly, packing it tight and curling around her Corporal's flank. Naturally, he watched her, and took off in the opposite direction, managing to dump his fistful of snow directly onto Mike's head as he ran by.

One hit. If Mikasa could land one hit, she would be content. She just yearned, deep in her, to wipe that conceited, pompous smirk off of his face...

It wasn't like she had some sort of complex about the man or anything. He just... he just... drove her insane in a very certain way. How his voice sounded so merciless when he taunted her as they trained, for instance.

Mikasa momentarily slid in the snow, but regained her balance. From far behind her, she could hear Armin's voice calling to her, "GO GET 'EM, MIKASA!" and she couldn't help but let the smile quirk up at the corner of her mouth.

Soon enough, the entire courtyard had descended into madness and cheers. There were chants of Levi's names fighting with the yells of Mikasa's, the legion split between rooting for the two powerhouses. Everyone was rapidly backing out of the way, seeing the dark streak of Mikasa's sprint kicking up snow everywhere, a red trail whipping behind her, and a spry figure that was Levi, curling defensively behind crates and barrels, always firing more and more snowballs at her when he could. Many fell short, but many Mikasa evaded, ducking and strafing and moving closer and closer to him.

One hit. Just one hit...

"ATTACK, MIKASA! ATTACK!"

She felt light and purposeful. Something about this one felt right, and he was losing ground. Her eyes honed in, needlesharp -- the white drifted on and on, and every step she took was deep and hard, and her cheeks and the tip of her nose and ears felt bitterly cold, but something like a grin was spread across her face and the whole crowd hushed.

Mikasa approached a stack of crates where he hid behind, and she went for it.

Her legs nimbly carried her up, stepping on each like stairs until she reached the precipice, before launching herself. She slow-motion soared over her corporal's head, adrenaline on full throttle, and she hyperawarely saw his eyes widen and his mouth twitch, and he jerked backwards. She was unstoppable now, and with all the force she could muster, heaved the pile of snow in her hands downwards, just as four shots came off the ground from him at mach speed.

Mikasa took a glorious face-full of snow in mid-air, freezing against her eyelids and getting in her hair, and she made a very displeased shriek of coldness. And then, falling down, she landed precisely on top of her snow-laden target, who made a sound of unhappiness as well, and whiteness went up everywhere around them.

The entire area erupted into hollering and cheers, and Mikasa faintly heard a shouting match starting between people arguing if she or Levi had won, but she couldn't really pay attention. She was on top of him, and underneath her, he was smiling crookedly and shaking the snow off his hair. A tangled mess of snow and bodies, Levi looked up at her, just as breathless and flushed and she was, and subtly enthused. He looked mesmerizing. She wanted to touch his face.

She didn't know what to say.

"Not bad, Ackerman." He said it softly enough that only she would hear it. And then, he reached up, and dusted the clumps of snow from her shoulders and hair, patting her head affectionately as he did. Then in a flash, his smile widened and he flipped her off of him (like he did far too much during practice), rising out of the ice and bellowing, "What are all of you idiots doing? Go finish your chores or you'll be drinking bleach with your tea tonight!"

Naturally, they listened, all quickly getting up and filing away like ants. The courtyard, once a perfect white, was now a mushy mess of dirty bootprints and pockmarks and grumbling soldiers.

Mikasa herself was about to get up and join them, now filled a newfound satisfaction (even though Levi had pushed her back into the snow), but she was stopped when she saw a hand held in front of her, leading back to her corporal, who stood with his back to her.

"Let's go, Ackerman. We'll count this as today's training." He glanced down at her, and Mikasa had the feeling Levi was trying not to show how much fun he'd been having. "...But don't think I'll let you off so easily next time."

Mikasa smiled, and took his hand, effortlessly pulling her up and putting a hand on her hip to steady her on her feet. She felt his touch linger moments longer than necessary, and found that she was very much okay with that.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," she replied, dusting herself off.

\---

Levi made her walk back with him, and as they talked and joked, it was the first time Mikasa had ever heard him laugh.


	8. maladie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you and i both know mikasa would not be able to comprehend romantic attraction.

He made her sick. It was the only feasible explanation.

She wasn't sure if she could take it any more.

"Hanji?"

"Ahh, yes, Mikasa?"

"I think I'm sick."

\---

The two women sat solemnly in Hanji's quarters -- clean, but full of busyness, with papers and books and jars and containers sprawled across shelves and any other flat surface -- and Hanji sat very still, her hands folded in front of her face, fingers pressed to her lips, staring at Mikasa. She in turn sat straight up, hands folded nervously in her lap, as she stared out the window.

"Mikasa, don't look so sad! Please, drink your tea."

"I'm sorry. I'm just... concerned."

Hanji gave her a comforting look, and pat her hands.

"We'll figure this out in no time, kiddo! You're not bleeding, and you're not bruised, so that's a good thing. Just... ah, would you mind telling me your symptoms one more time?"

Mikasa squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, unable to even pretend to sip at her tea. "I get lightheaded," she began, quietly. "My heart races, and my entire chest feels funny. Full of cold air. And it makes me almost nauseous, but it's more like... just... a very strong, penetrating sensation that stays right here." She placed her hand right in the center of her chest, on her sternum. She frowned lightly. "And no matter how carefully I breathe, or no matter what I do, the feeling won't go away. My appetite is diminishing, and sometimes I feel feverish, especially in my face and... stomach."

"Hmmm..." Hanji looked perplexed still, her cheeks puffing out as she contemplated. "Is there anything, anything else at all? Even little things? Rash, strange thoughts, maybe something you're allergic to?"

Mikasa thought. She wracked her brains for anything, anything at all, until she was sure she would come up blank. Then, it hit her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Hanji nearly fell out of her chair, her expression so earnest she looked like she might burst. "Yes? Yes?!"

It started happening again. Mikasa touched her cheeks as they grew hotter, and crossed her legs tightly as the tormenting sensation roiled in her belly, echoing powerfully to her chest.

"These things always seem to happen around Corporal Levi," she admitted. "Which means he might be sick, too."

Hanji didn't say anything for some time; no, she merely stared at Mikasa, her face frozen in place, an open smile and wide eyes that were suddenly blank. Her hands stayed flat on the table, her body leaned forward in anticipation.

Finally, she said, "What?"

Mikasa was feeling very stupid now indeed, but concern won, and she repeated meekly, "It happens around Corporal Levi, and I think you should check with him to make sure he doesn't have what I have."

Hanji slowly drew back to her chair, resting fully on it, and drawing her knees up to her chest, hugging them. Her smile was light, pleasing, and reserved. She blinked too much, seemingly dazed.

"Mikasa," she said politely. "Do you think about Levi a lot?"

Mikasa tilted her head adorably. "I do, yes."

"Do these symptoms accompany it, usually?"

"I... believe so, yes."

"I see. Quick question: have you ever masturbated?"

"Have I ever _wha_?"


	9. maladie, pt. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ********** **YO WARNING THIS IS AN EXPLICIT CHAPTER DISCUSSING A LEGALLY-AGED MIKASA ACKERMAN FLICKIN' THE BEAN FOR THE FIRST TIME** *************
> 
> IF YOU AIN'T ABOUT THAT, YA BEST MOVE ON :B
> 
> as for the rest of you, do enjoy.
> 
> (p.s. i am SOOOOOO EMBARRASSED TO POST THIS I'M SORRY MOM I'M SORRY DAD)

Deep breaths. Be calm. Look at the ceiling. Think about him.

The first time Mikasa Ackerman touches herself -- really, really touches herself -- it's late and quiet and raining outside. She has a few candles lit in her room, and her maroon cardigan pressed to the seam of the door to block the light; no one will be the wiser. Her chest rises and falls, uneven, a perfect emulation of her erratic heartrate; her shaking hands.

_"M... masturbate?"_

_"Oh... aha... ahahaha... you... don't know what that is, do you? Well, ah, let's see here. It's a very natural thing that humans do!"_

_"It is?"_

_"Yes, yes, completely! And it's marvelous. You see, humans have what we call erogenous zones -- areas on the body that, when interacted with properly, elicit a pleasurable sensation. Like how some foods taste really good, you see? Certain tastes, certain touches. And all you have to do... is touch. It's quite simple, really!"_

_"I... think I understand. But, what does this have to do with Corporal Levi?"_

_"Mikasa, you mentioned that you get these... symptoms... when you think of him, yes?"_

_"...Yes."_

_"Masturbating might help take the edge off."_

The candlelight leaves strange, formless shapes on the ceiling -- pumpkin orange and daisy yellow and stormy blacks. Intangible shadows and flickers that looks like hands, curling around her, glittering eyes watching her. Her breath catches for an instant as the thunder rolls outside, and the fine hairs on her arms and neck rise.

Her shirt's unbuttoned, and she feels too warm already. What was she supposed to do? Right, think of Levi. (Levi--! It's scandalous, strikes a frightening chord in her, that she's not calling him her Corporal, or Sir, even in her own head--) and she whispers to herself that it's okay, she's alone, Hanji said it would help quell this rotten feeling that decays in her gut like an addictive parasite.

She imagines his eyes, first.

Corporal Levi's eyes are depthless and cobalt. She sees her angry reflection in them, and the fold of his bored lids as he broods about whatever she's fighting with him on. His eyelashes are dark and protective, and a perfect match for the sharp lines of his brow.

He whispers, poisonous and sweet, _"You will address me as Sir. Do you understand, girl?"_

Her fingertip drifts across her nipple and electricity shoots through her whole body, ending powerfully at the precipice where her thighs meet. It's so strong that it's frightening, at first, but _god_ it felt good, and Mikasa takes a deep breath before running her finger across it again, finding that the normally soft skin is supple and hard as she sweeps it across her smooth palm. The sensation rockets down her body again, and this time she's more prepared, more able to savor it and feel like her tummy has clamped up deliciously.

More, more, more.

_"Um... so how do you, masturbate, exactly?"_

_"That's the easy part! You experiment. You test and try out new things until you know what works best. Though, it's probably best to start with the erogenous zones..."_

_"Where are those?"_

_"That would be your breasts -- specifically, the peaks of them -- and your womanhood. There are other places, but it depends on the person -- some people may have sensitive necks, or backs, or what-have-you! Isn't that exciting?"_

_"So do you... just... touch those places? And it feels good?"_

_"Indeed. That's all there is to it. Pinch, prod, poke, pull. Caress! Stroke! Play with, as roughly or gently as you please. If all goes well, you should find a wetness between your thighs, and you can slide a finger in. Try that out! And oh, oh, above that, at the top, should be a nub of sorts -- rub that. Press with your fingers. That's it!"_

_"Is it safe for me to do it alone, Hanji? Should... should you perhaps show me, first?"_

_"... ... ...Mikasa, I... You see, ah... Well... Hmm. I appreciate your offer, but masturbation is a very personal and private thing. Intimate."_

_"Is it a secret?"_

_"Of... sorts! Try to keep it to yourself for the time being, darlin'. B-but come to me! If you need anything at all, questions, theories, ideas, experiences, come to me and I'll do my best to set you straight!"_

_"...Hanji?"_

_"Yes'm?"_

_"Thank you. Really."_

_"Not a problem, m'dear."_

The rain continues pelting against her window like horse hooves kicking up gravel on the pane, and Mikasa felt the air begin to cool against the light layer of sweat that had begun appearing on her. And like Hanji had said -- after pinching and pulling gently on her swollen nipples, she felt an indescribable warmth between her legs, slick and desperate. So she let her hands drift down, down past the hem of her hips, and across the bristles of dark hair, until she finally reached a hot and sticky, wet pool.

She could certainly slide in a finger like this, couldn't she?

But... could Levi?

Firecrackers went off in her chest. Sir, she meant -- _sir_. Levi, sir. She knew the roughened feeling of his palms and the callouses on him, for he'd sparred with her more than enough times for her to know. His hands were strong and had prominent knuckles, scarred from fist fights. But his nails were perfectly clean. Always.

 _"Charming how wet you are,"_ he would mock her, fingers curling around a strand of sweat-soaked hair and pushing it away. She's sprawled on the bed, just like this, breathing ragged and fingers shaking and heart fluttering. _"You put on such a good show. I can only wonder how long you held out before you gave in. You cannot win against me, girl. I am the only one who could ever bring you pleasure like this."_

He leans down, tucking his face against the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent, kissing the soft place under her ear and making her shudder. For the first time, as Mikasa's slick fingers reach up to her clit and press down, a small but intense sound escapes the confines of her throat and blush rises into her cheeks. But, it feels too good. It feels amazing. The pads of her fingers begin a delicate, meek pattern of cursive on her swollen flesh, and her toes begin crossing, curling, her glutes go stiff and her hips begin pushing her off of the bed...

"Sir..." she gasps. What would he do to her? Would he thumb her nipples, trace the line of her collarbone? Would he kiss her? Would he -- dare she think it -- put his mouth on her, caress her skin with his tongue? The blazing heat that coursed through Mikasa at the thought was mind-numbing and lucid thought began going out the window. One hand urgently, gingerly toyed with a nipple, while the other frantically and carefully continued rubbing her clit, and her heels were jamming into the quilt and her breaths were coming in wild, harsh gulps as mewls and cries of pleasure went out. Was this the release Hanji mentioned? The feeling was too big to comprehend, like boiling water in her belly that felt like sugar on her tongue. She felt like she had to pee. But she didn't, she knew that wasn't quite _it_ \--

 _"It feels good, doesn't it."_ It wasn't a question, it was a statement. An order. A demand. _"You would give anything to have me even in your presence right now. Little Miss Red Scarf, tired of staring at me from across the training grounds, tired of wishing I'd give you something more. That's it, isn't it? You want me. You want to please me. Do anything for me. But that petty pride is in the way... tsk tsk, ma fifille."_ His voice creeps to her throat, where his tongue drags and his hands carefully wrap around her wrists, squeezing like cuffs. _"You can do better than that."_

Mikasa is frightened of the coil in her belly that threatens to burst and ruin her from the inside out. There are a thousand lights, all black, glimmering on the inside of her eyelids, popping because she's squeezing them shut, and she's panting and squealing and writhing on the bedsheets. Part of her is already gone, already crawling towards that merciful edge where she can drop into the oblivion of ecstasy and never see the light of day again. But cautious, wary Mikasa holds her back, face tucked in her scarf, pretending there's no way she'll ever do it.

_"You can do better. I know you can. I've watched you, **Mikasa**. Do as I say."_

Her heart is something close to stopping in her chest. She can't do it. She can't take anymore.

_"Let go. **Now**." ___

__The bed bucks, making a loud creak that is drowned out by the pouring rain. The blackness in her eyes turns to blistering white, and her insides collapse and tighten and twist in the most heavenly way she could never have ever dreamt of. It's overwhelming and terrifying and it feels so, so good, and she very nearly screams but muffles it behind her tight lips. Her legs lock together, crushing her hand, and for a long, long moment, she soaks in her very first climax, letting it wash over her and soothe her feverish senses._ _

__When Mikasa slides back to the quilt -- and reality -- she stares at the ceiling, chest heaving, heart racing, eyes wide and glassy. She's never felt more her in her life. She wets her lips with her tongue, and breathes out, "Oh."_ _

__It takes a few minutes for her to regain her composure, but she does, and she slides into her sleeping garments, putting away her faithful cardigan and blowing out her candles, splashing water on herself in her small basin. She crawls into bed, clear-headed and a little dizzy, and smiling._ _

__The rain doesn't let up. She falls asleep, wondering when she will see Hanji to thank them, and how she will ever look Corporal Levi in the eye again._ _


	10. maladie, pt. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so maaaaybe levi gets touchy with himself in this chapter.......... ;)
> 
> also, i just wanted to say thank you?? forever??? for the overwhelmingness of everyone?!!? i hit 2000 views and i've gotten such fun and sweet comments and everyone has just been so awesome!!! so thank you!!!!! *throws confetti!!!!*
> 
> (p.s. an fst for your listening pleasure is [here](http://8tracks.com/ghostyyy/twice-bitten)!)

"Oi. _Oi_. Levi!"

"What is it?"

"C'mere. Got something to tell you."

Reluctance. But, Levi abandons his seat at the head of the table and wanders over to Hanji, who is seated at the other end, surrounded by books and papers.

"Is it important? I'd like to drink my coffee in peace without having to hear about the consistency of titan shit..."

"It's about Mikasa."

For a split second, he felt his heart miss a step, and his morning coffee nearly swallowed wrong as he pulled the porcelain from his lips.

"And?"

He put on his voice of most feigned disinterest and hoped to god Hanji would not decide on being perceptive today about his... interest in the girl.

"I got something terribly intriguing to tell you about," Hanji whispered with barely-contained excitement. She sounded like she had a secret, even, and Levi couldn't deny even he was curious. In a nutshell, he was captivated by the girl, and while he did everything in his power to only view her as his equal and underling he was... failing. Miserably.

It kept him awake at night. Plagued him. Her obsidian eyes were incomprehensible and her mouth was beautiful and nothing in the world made him feel the way he felt when she fought him tooth and nail and then...

"So? Wanna hear it?"

"Hanji!"

The heads in the room all snap to the entrance -- it isn't often that Mikasa Ackerman storms in sounding so... friendly...? And even Levi's attention is now fully on her, slight dumbstruck by the faint smile on her face and the peculiar brightness of her eyes. 

He feels sick.

"Ah, Mikasa! How are you?" _The fuck?_

"Great. Can I talk to you?"

Levi perked a brow as the pair abandoned the room. Mikasa had barely bat an eye at him, and Hanji looked marvelously pleased. In fact, Hanji looked like this secret had been something Levi really, really wanted to hear.

Well, what could he say? It was true.

Levi stood at the table a moment longer, lingering on his hot cup of coffee and musing on the thousand possibilities. Titans. The Jaeger brat. Garbage. Other things he didn't care about, nor care to think about.

And then a stone dropped in his stomach. Clear as day, it hit him. Mikasa seeming pleasant for one of the first times he'd ever seen? Mikasa looking for Hanji. Mikasa Ackerman, cold and calculating, quiet as the dead and strong as a hundred soldiers. Mikasa Ackerman, the only person to still be alive and keep him laying awake at night.

"Fuck," he breathed out under his breath, running a hand over his eyes.

She was in love with Hanji. They were together.

Fuck.

Corporal Levi downed the rest of his coffee in his mouth in one swallow, slammed it on the table, and strode out of the room in a temper seldom seen.

\---

It wasn't that hard to follow them; Hanji's voice traveled like cannon fire, and it was only a minute before he had navigated the halls to them. When he was close enough, his footsteps turned muted, light. The corridor dwindled into infrequently-used rooms, and before he rounded the last corner, he heard the quiet sound of a door clicking shut.

He crept closer. He didn't make a sound, even though he felt heavy.

"...So?? How was..."

"Good. Amazing. I... ...tingly... like nothing I've ever felt... ...and warm, and wet, too, like you said..."

"Ahhhhh Mikasa! I'm so happy for you! What about..."

"Corporal... vi?"

_What?_

Levi's heart stopped in his chest. He stepped closer, tense as a pulled bowstring. His jaw was set hard and his palms felt hot and itchy. The thought begins occurring to him -- maybe they _aren't_ together...

"...thought of... ...touching... ...telling me... things?"

"Oh? Things? What sort of things?"

"...embarrassing..."

"Aww, you don't ha... ...tell me if... ...want to!"

 _No_ , Levi wanted to snap. _No, no, no you awful vixen, you want to tell Hanji. In fact, you're going to tell Hanji whether you want to or not, and I am going to..._

Going to what?

Press her pliant body to the wall, ravish her mouth with his own? Tangle his fingers against hers, bite her lip, roll his hips into hers and speak venomous words about his mortifying puppy love for her?

"...call him 'sir'..." Levi's gut throbbed. "...do as he says..."

His hand absently went to the stone wall beside him, fingertips dragging harshly against it to steady himself. His heart was pounding generously in his ears and erection was unsurprising.

Little Miss Red Scarf, on the other hand. It was the surprise of a lifetime. Levi hadn't the faintest idea if he was really hearing this conversation correctly, but God in heaven if he was, he wasn't sure he'd be able to look Mikasa in the eye again.

Intuition struck, and he decided it was time to retreat. Go take care of his 'problem'. He nearly made it to his barracks, taking the long way to try and cool down and burn some energy, and it was just enough time for Hanji to come exploding around the corner from the opposite end of the hall. Well, he called it exploding, but it was very quiet -- an implosion. It was never a good sign was Hanji was excited and being hushed about it. Also, he did not... not... not want to face the eccentric fool right now.

Gritted teeth, Levi tried to look uninterested and busy as he angled away from her to hide his still-swollen problem, and said, "I'm busy right now, this can wait."

"Liar. You're welcome."

That was it. Hanji floated by, the most conceited and coy smile he'd ever seen in his life going along with it. The blood ran from his face.

\---

It's not the first time he's masturbated to Mikasa Ackerman. But, it is the first time he has knowing she's done the same.

He nearly punctures his lip he bites it so hard when he comes. His breaths are ragged and dry, and his hands are shaking hard, and he makes an embarrassing noise when it happens. And it's embarrassing how messy it is.

And it's a bit cliche, but after he cleans up, he sits in bed, shirtless and morose, with his face in his hands. He thinks about the sexual stuff, a lot, admittedly -- pulling her hair, talking down to her, fucking her against the wall -- but sometimes he thinks about the other intimate things. The embarrassing things.

Untangling her hair for her, brushing it. Holding her. Having tea in the morning. Teasing her in French.

Kissing her, simply and softly, before they fall asleep. A world without titans, where he can be the bastard who wins her over and doesn't have to accept every morning when he wakes up, it may be the last time he sees her and that stupid red scarf.

"Fuck," he says under his breath, for no one but him to hear. "Fuck."


	11. crasse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little something i wrote because i loved [this comic](http://moni158.tumblr.com/post/61409233465/socially-awkward-levi-meets-socially-awkward) by moni SO DAMN MUCH. (thank you for letting me write this!!!)
> 
> ENJOY.

Corporal Levi wondered if the most splendid brat of them all, Ms. Mikasa Ackerman, would ever manage to be in his prescence without her lips curled and her claws out.

She was currently doing what she always did -- quietly and vehemently complaining and vaguely threatening him -- and after all this time, it was just pathetic and childlike. Amusing even, if he'd had coffee that morning and Hanji had stayed out of his hair.

So Mikasa dragged on, hissing and spitting like a cat, her fingers curled into shapes that could painfully cut into his skin if she tried, eyes narrowed to dark slits. Her eyelashes jutted up like this. And her hair, a choppy, messy cut that drove him nuts with its disorder, both curtained her face at harsh angles and yet perfectly framing her ire. Huh.

Levi stared on at nothing in particular, thoughtful. She was cute in an unpleasant way. That old, worn-out scarf did nothing to help his opinion.

"Sir, are you even listening to me?"

"Hm? Were you speaking to me? My bad."

Her eyes flashed and Levi calmly took a drink from his tea cup, admiring her white knuckles and trembling hands.

"I said." Her teeth were gritted as she said this. "Pardon my interruption, but I've heard you're mistreating Eren again."

Levi perked a brow at this. He felt like something was off. Something familiar and wretched that he could not put his finger on.

"Please don't try to deny it," she went on, and without missing a beat, he returned, "I won't, he's a little shit." And there it was, glaring him in the face. Under her sharp eyes, on the rounded curve of her cheekbone, sheltered from his view by her hair before, was a blatant smudge of dirt. And it was awful. It was, in that moment, the most horrible thing he had ever seen. Dirt? On fucking _Mikasa Ackerman_? His thoughts quickened at an unruly rate, outpacing him in a fraction of a second: Dirt on Mikasa. Unacceptable. No dirt on Mikasa, _ever_ , fucking ever, not Mikasa. Mikasa is clean, Mikasa is his subordinate, his to take care of, _his_ to keep clean and in line and fuck her obsession with the Jaeger brat and fuck her ratty scarf, she was his soldier and may he die alone to the weakest titan in the world before he lets dirt ever touch this girl again. _Clean her up._

The train of thought lasted less than a second. Levi's profile remained composed, and he interrupted smoothly as she began to open her mouth to continue, leaning in, "Hang on a second Ackerman."

It was very natural, thinking back on it. Mikasa stood there, yielding and confused, but she never made a move to stop him. Her eyes only followed the trail of his hand as he reached out, head tilted curiously, as he touched her cheek and wiped away the dirt with his thumb. And her skin was warm and felt good, and it felt good to rid it of the mar.

The whole air went quiet after that, and Levi felt better. That was much better. And he supposed he could let the girl finish her story.

He examined the filth on his thumb with distaste, saying, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

There was no reply. He glanced up at the girl, seeing her still standing, her whole body somehow tense and softer, her eyes wider and her expression blank. She blinked at him.

His hand fell to his side. Was she really spacing out now? He said, "Ackerman?" And he felt her swell up with a thousand words that all made it to her throat and then died in her mouth. She seemed flush and suddenly her eyes couldn't stay on him. Levi considered snapping in her face, to shake her from her little reverie, but before he could even begin to move she jolted like a frightened animal and blurted out, "C-Corporal! I seem to have forgotten something!"

Her boots were slamming on the stone floor as she bolted before he had time to even process the situation. He thought to yell at her, but her scarf was already trailing behind her, a great distance from him, and he didn't want to draw any attention.

...But still.

Levi looked to his thumb again. Mused on her cheek. The red that had filled it, and the very rare, submissive silence that had overcome Mikasa Ackerman.

"...Oh?"

A crooked smirk came to his mouth.

Perhaps he should touch her more often.


	12. crinière

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is a chapter full of strange backstory headcanon that was very sad to write.

She had never been comfortable with anyone touching her hair.

It was very sacred to her, it held an importance impressed upon her by her mother at a very young age. Boys would pull on it, comment on its thickness and the richness of its black colour, and receive everything from praise to teasing for it. And Mama had explained, patiently, that her hair was her hair, and she was to take loving care of it.

Now, older and wiser, she'd passingly heard the horror stories of her kind, and how their bodies held so much value in the underground trade. For the unlucky who tried to keep tradition and grow their hair long, it was sheared from them and sold for prices loftier than Mikasa had ever fathomed.

So she didn't care much for her hair being touched.

Eren was an exception. Mom, too. Mom was always very good about brushing her hair each morning and being gentle and the perfect person to ease the strains on her heart, and Eren was polite enough to keep his hands to himself when it came to it, even to this day.

With all of these facts withstanding, it was not remarkable nor surprising that now Mikasa was sitting on a wooden chair, stiff as a board and shaking like a leaf. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, and her hands clutched the sides of the chair desperately, and she stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her as her breaths came too rapidly and unsteadily.

But Mikasa wasn't here by force.

"Surprised you haven't gone grey yet," he murmured half-jokingly. And just like that, she relaxed, if only a little. He didn't take offense at her lack of reply.

Mikasa struggled to find her calm, to be civil and mature. "Same to you."

"Shh. I told you. Don't force yourself."

"I-I'm not." Great.

But he just snorted under his breath. "Such a dreadful liar, Ackerman." And she knew better than to reply.

They lapsed back into silence, and Mikasa dealt with the war in her body.

Levi was standing behind her, and as usual, his presence exuded so strongly that she felt like he was wrapped around her. His stomach pressed to the back of her chair, letting it take his weight as his fingers nimbly combed through her hair. He was, one by one, unfurling the knots and straightening misplaced strands. It was a long, arduous process that made her simultaneously nauseous and pleasantly flustered -- his fingertips, precise and gentle, would rub against her scalp and signal a tingle straight down her neck. His work would leave him tugging carefully on her hair, pulling, tilting her head back, and the pressure was thick and heavy on her skin. And when he combed his digits -- sliding his fingers into her hair, lacing into it, and raking down and out softly, her heart slammed into her throat like cannon fire. Fear and pleasure coalesced rampantly in her body at every burning touch, and it took all of her focus not to escape from the chair and hide far away from Levi's frightening, prying hands.

It seemed like hours had passed when he stopped to get the brush. Mikasa was almost sure she'd faint before he made it back.

But she didn't.

Instead, as in control as always, Levi patiently stroked her cheek with a slender, calloused hand. He pressed a warm kiss to her crown, and mumbled something into her hair that she didn't catch. His hand didn't move away. She leaned into his heated touch, savouring it, focusing on it to distract herself. She would get through this. She trusted him with her life, so she could trust him with this as well. He had not pushed her into letting him brush her hair, he only asked politely and explained honestly and against everything she had taught herself, she found herself nodding her head yes, pale as a ghost as she realized what she'd done.

It was a strange thing to bond over, she realized with faint amusement. Her being vulnerable with her fear of her hair being touched, him coming clean with his desire to do something special for her that was once very important to him. He didn't say much, but she understood from his explanation that a long, long time ago, there was a girl whose hair he brushed, too. And he missed it very, very much.

When the soft bristles touched her scalp, she jumped, and froze, and he didn't even flinch. He continued all the way down, and the sensation of her hair parting so smoothly was soothing in a way she'd forgotten. The feeling was so powerfully nostalgic that her breathing hitched in her throat.

He repeated this motion over and over. And over and over, she felt her muscles untense. Her heart rate slowed to an easy, light canter. She felt lightheaded instead of panicked.

Then, he spoke, his voice low and private. It was a tone she very, very rarely heard him use.

"Her name was Ester. Had long, long hair. We'd tell her it was too much trouble, was a pain in the ass to tote around, and she'd move better if she just hacked it off. Plus, we could probably make good coin off of it."

The room was still as night. Mikasa scarcely breathed, only listened intently to what she was sure was something Levi did not speak of often, if ever, to even his closest companions. Her heart swelled and ached with emotion as she comprehended the significance.

"She'd refuse, obviously. She was a stubborn brat, but at least it kept her warm in winter. But she was young, and couldn't really manage it herself, so I took Amah's brush and would brush it out for her. I looked like a damn fool, but thankfully the idiots below understood if they so much as looked at us the wrong way, they'd wake up with broken wrists and not be able to pickpocket for weeks."

He paused for a moment. Mikasa had long ceased shaking, and was instead perfectly still in her chair, enraptured with his story. She realized he'd finished brushing, and she reached up to touch her hair, but he snapped, "Don't. I'm not done yet." She withdrew. Levi wandered across the room to replace the brush (she had a strange sinking feeling it was the brush he spoke of) and he returned with something in his hands that she didn't see.

"Since she was a brat, eventually she had me styling it for her like a shitting fool. But I'll be damned... if Ester did not have the best braids of any brat in the underground."

His fingers plucked clumps of hair from the front of her face, pulling them backwards. She felt them fasten into place, as they did not fall back, and he twisted and tugged more in a rhythmic motion. He had gone silent, now, and the silence said too much. Mikasa felt, telepathically or whatever it was, she felt him, the dark churning of his emotions and she frowned, feeling hot tears bite at her eyes.

Mikasa didn't need to ask what happened.

"There."

Blinking and wiping at her eyes hurriedly, pretending she was fine, Mikasa went to stand only to have Levi appear before her, offering his hand. She took it, feeling warm and muddled, and he helped her up.

Finally, she looked into his face. Surprise coloured her eyes for a moment, but she hid it.

Levi's eyes were very obviously dark, and very obviously red-tinged. His expression was something between satisfaction and melancholy. Sadness -- real, genuine sadness -- was unheard of. Corporal Levi was, after all, the man who could not be budged. Perfect unruffled, always enduring for his soldiers. The picture of a leader.

She saw his uneven breaths, and he reached out, faintly touching her cheek. He looked at her in an indescribable way, and Mikasa felt helpless and sick, and grateful for everything he had just done, and she didn't know how to handle the impressive surge of emotion that was overwhelming her.

"It suits you," he whispered.

Mikasa bit her lip.

"I'm... glad. Thank you, Levi. Truly."

She knew her words were feeble compared to her feelings. And it was frustrating that she couldn't express herself clearly. But Levi was Levi. He understood. Closing his eyes, defeated, he drew her into his arms and Mikasa's throat got stuck as the tears unwillingly spilled.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm sorry."

Levi's voice wavered, nearly cracked. "I wish you could've met my sister, Mikasa."

Mikasa practically choked, and let herself sink into Levi's embrace. She clutched at his shirt, buried her face into the crook of his neck, pressed all of herself to him as to not feel alone. In turn, Levi's arms wound around her like steel, possessive and needing, and his lips found her temple, lingering on it with a half-kiss.

\---

She received lots of compliments on her hair the next day. Most people gave her confused looks, but in the end, admired the change.

Mikasa's silky black hair, pulled aside in a braid, finished with a small, plain bow that looked old and worn.

It suited her, somehow.


	13. automate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was considering making this chapter into a full-fledged fic, but I guess we'll see :) In the meantime, here is a slight-futuristic AU where Mikasa is a successful lawyer who lives alone in a big, empty mansion until she purchases a taciturn biodroid by the name of Levi...

"Your tea, Miss."

"Thank you."

The cup and saucer were placed gently onto the rich wood of the table, beside a stack of papers and folders — Mikasa didn’t even glance up from her book.

"Is there anything else you’ll be needing, Miss?"

"No, thank you. You are dismissed."

"I have no other commands for the next hour, Miss."

Resigning herself to the conversation, she glanced at the page number and shut the book, letting it fall to her lap as she brought her attention to him. Mikasa questioned him patiently; “Are you done with all daily chores?”

"Yes, Miss."

"All the rooms sanitary and in order?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Is there we need restocked?"

"No, Miss."

"When’s the last time Eren was checked on? Is there anything he needs?"

"The last communication was one hour and twenty-one minutes ago. He said he was fine, and... passionately requested that you leave him alone for the duration of the day. I do not believe he needs anything, Miss."

Her mouth twitched down, but Mikasa recovered with a calming breath. “Well then,” she said more lightly. “I guess you do have nothing better to do.”

"Sorry," he said. He didn’t look very sorry. It was rare to get any emotion out of him, really, but it was a quirk she supposed she liked in him. Needed, even.

"It’s all right. Would you like to sit with me? You can make yourself tea if you want."

One eyebrow rose, questioning — it disappeared into his silky black hair and his eyes glinted. “Is that a request or a command?”

Mikasa countered, “I said it was up to you, dummy.”

"I do not believe I am unintelligent by any stretch of the imagination, Miss," he replied smoothly. But in the next second, she was looking at his back as he strode away in the direction of the kitchen. And she felt calm, and warm. Her book lay forgotten under her hands, and a faint smile sat on her lips as she stared long after he had disappeared into the hall.

Levi was… He was really something. Something in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

He returned a few minutes later with a plain teacup in hand. Silently, he pulled out the chair across the desk from her, and made himself comfortable.

"How is your tea, Miss?"

Oh. Mikasa grimaced, she had been too engrossed in her work and had forgotten the tea entirely. She quickly took it and sipped — it was the perfect temperature, just strong enough, just enough sugar and just enough cream.

"Perfect," she complimented, fingering the delicate golden rim.

He did not reply.

In an ordinary social setting, with anyone else she could think of, this would have all seemed very cold; impersonal. Truthfully, it was anything but. Simply, Levi did not question the sincerity in her reply, and saw no reason to make small talk. It had only been two short weeks, but Mikasa secretly was grateful that Levi, too, was also not verbose.

He was sipping his tea slowly, and looked like he was in thought. She could see his gaze going straight past her and out the bay window that beautifully framed a view of the front garden and entrance walkway. The sun was still out — though you could see the imminent storm in the whorls of grey clouds that loomed miles off — and it warmly illuminated the carefully-kept grounds. A trimmed lawn, manicured hedges, stately trees, flower beds crammed with white buds, and attractively worn brick path that led to the black, iron-wrought gates.

There was a pang of guilt that she had to ignore him like this, but the case she was working on was extremely important, and tomorrow was a deadline she needed to meet. _Anyway, it’s not like he’s a house guest — he’s the housekeeper_ , she had to remind herself. It was difficult to treat him like one, though… That was the downside of purchasing the state-of-the-art biodroid, she supposed. He looked too perfectly real, acted so normally— well, maybe not normally, but nothing about him really _gave_ one reason to doubt his humanity at first glance.

"Is something bothering you, Miss?"

Mikasa nearly choked on her tea, and stifled the cough. Glancing at Levi — one brow was perfectly raised in question — he was expecting an answer or an explanation.

"No," she replied curtly. "No, I’m fine. Just absorbed in the case."

Something in his blank expression told her he didn’t buy it. “Do you require any assistance? If this is the Leonhart case, I have already acquired the data pool on travel patterns and expenses that you requested.”

Mikasa was going to say no, no matter what he said, and was frustrated when she found herself unable to. She actually needed that data. Very much so. “I… Yes. Here,” she shuffled through a few folders until she found the right one, and passed it off to him. “Document what you can on the timeline so I can finalize the chart.”

"I will. Is there anything else? I can prepare more tea… or perhaps cough drops."

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Mikasa met his eyes — his gaze was steady, but the faintest upward twitch of his lips betrayed his teasing — and she half-smiled, too.

"You can fuck off," she said eventually, and in an old habit, her fingers tugged up her comforting scarf to cover up to her nose.

Levi took a long drink from his teacup. He leaned back in his chair, placed his ankle over his knee, and propped open the folder in his lap to begin to read. “As you wish,” he replied, hiding his amused smirk as Mikasa did her private smile.


End file.
